


painkillers pt ii - a bit of young faith

by solipsismlemonade



Series: midnight streets [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batman - Freeform, Gen, Human Trafficking, Patrol, Please Send Help, Some violence?, Young Batman, batman beats up some very bad people and everyone has a happy ending, gotham gothic architecture makes for good handholds, i still don't know how to use ao3 wish me luck friends, i've no idea how to do tags i'm sorry, more drug use for a good cause, no beta we die like men, think batman: year one, vigilante activity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:35:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solipsismlemonade/pseuds/solipsismlemonade
Summary: Canaan ain’t far for the souls who barter their pain for sweet relief
Series: midnight streets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658302
Kudos: 1





	painkillers pt ii - a bit of young faith

Batman thought he knew how he preferred Gotham. Like this, the city was – not quiet. It was clearer. The daylight hid things better than the night, though maybe that was the night vision and infrared lenses talking. The same gargoyle he’d seen earlier that day, stuck in an intersection, made for a convenient alcove to hang in as he watched the building across the way.

There was a suspicious amount of truck traffic for a two-story building that was – allegedly – a housing development. Batman focused on the base of the building and toggled a switch on a very small remote. He was still working out how to build controls into the suit for now, but putting the controls in his gauntlets were a definite no. There was an interesting case to be held for putting them in his forearms, but Batman had his doubts; most of his blocks were with his forearms.

He’d work it out.

For now, though – trucks. Unmarked. The people filling them were all business; black uniforms and bulletproof vests, concealed weaponry with nothing flashy or bright. They conducted the hurried, efficient business of unloading crates and –

Wait.

Batman leaned forward, reminiscent of a cat pooling 70% of its body weight off a ledge and still managing to give gravity the finger. Those were people. They were pulling _people_ out of the building, blindfolded and gagged and with their arms bound behind their backs. Batman felt himself go a little colder as he drew out his grapple gun and calculated the angle.

He rarely enjoyed beating thugs up (that’s what he told himself).

He would enjoy this.

There was a split moment of wind and cold, greedy, frigid fingers forcing their way into his cowl and making his cape flare out, a puddle of ink against the midnight sky. Batman dropped into a roll and a crouch across the building’s roof, popped up and jumped down. One man had the happy chance of looking up and getting a heavy-tread boot to the face, reinforced Kevlar and carbon fiber weave leaving their mark. It would dent, Batman thought with vicious satisfaction. There was the crunch as the man’s nose broke and a spray of blood painting the concrete, then he got down to work.

There were three victims; two young women and a little boy who couldn’t have been older than ten. Batman took out the ones with guns (five) before going after those still frozen in the act of unloading the truck (three) and then those at the door (two).

It was all muscle memory. Solar plexus, tap up with a fist to dislodge the rifle. Semi-auto, the kind pulled illegally – new enough to still be shiny in patches were the (expensive, unmarked equipment. No masks or costumes. Efficient. Conclusion: hired thugs) mercenaries hadn’t blacked out all the shine. Interesting. The hateful thing was pulled apart easily enough.

Once Bruce – once _Batman_ had gotten used to dis- and reassembling guns, over and over, the gut-jerk reaction of horror had started to fade.

It took conscious effort not to be overtly brutal. It took three deep breaths to stop himself from hitting again, and again, and again. It took another two to remind Batman that there were victims to be taken care of.

He called the one policeman that could be trusted to do his job right before vanishing; the fervent ‘thank you’ died on the lips of the older girl.

They were just kids.

Two roofs away, Batman dry-swallowed a small yellow pill and watched pinwheeling red and blue lights pulled into the grimy side alley, and then he was gone.

Someone was buying and selling humans in his city and he was going to tear them down with his own two hands.

**Author's Note:**

> i swear i write more than this but my brain's has been catching up and i've only recently been able to somewhat organize life + was SICK (not corona) but hey we're here now. the song is Painkillers by Rainbow Kitten Surprise and in hindsight maybe i shoulda made it a chapter two to painkillers pt i but the tags are different so uh... here we are


End file.
